Operation: Dödsfälla
by AkuRoku18
Summary: One of the coldest winters in Scandinavia attracts Tintin and Snowy to Norway. However, an old enemy from France reappears with a whole troupe of new ones to exact revenge on the reporter. Sequel to "The Order of Hades." sdhrngng I promise I'll stop sometime.
1. Prologue

**Me: Heeeeeeeeello! :D**

**Tintin: Please, god, make it stop.. -hides in a corner- TT n TT  
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**Me: Oh come now! This'll be the last (-cough-nope-cough-) Tintin fic I'll ever write! Promise! ^ u ^  
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**Tintin: Alright. If you say so. - n -  
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**Me: Alright! I, AkuRoku18, do not own the Adventures of Tintin, nor am I making profits off of my fanfictions! :D  
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**Tintin: Yeah... you people enjoy this... hopefully last fanfic. TT u TT  
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**Me: Of course, of course! (-cough- NOPENOTREALLY -cough- ) ^L^  
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_**Operation: Dödsfälla**_

**Prologue**

**January 8, 1941**

It was the coldest winter in Scandinavia in quite a long time. Ice and snow coated nearly everything from Denmark to Iceland. High winds wracked the cities of Sweden, Norway, and Finland. The winter felt particularly cold to the people of Norway and Denmark. Germany had invaded the two countries in April, 1940 and captured the two in June the same year.

The winter was so cold, newspaper companies from all over the world sent reporters to the occupied countries. England, Finland, America, Turkey, France, Belgium. _Le Petit Vingtieme _had sent their best reporter to Köngsvinger, Norway to write on the winter. The plane –Flight 457- landed in Köngsvinger. The passengers exited the plane and walked into the airport to avoid the frigid wind. One of the passengers in particular had his hood up over his ginger hair that curved up into a tuft. He had a long, dark blue trench coat on with white fur, which he thought was ridiculous, lining the hood. A little white dog followed him closely at his heels. He barked up at his master.

"Right, Snowy. We'll get to the hotel right away," the reporter said cheerfully. "It's cold out there! _Le Petit Vingtieme _wasn't lying, eh?"

The young man threw off his hood, fully showing the ginger quiff. Tintin had come to Norway.


	2. Chapter 1

**Me: HEY Y'ALL! :D**

**Tintin: Ah... you're here. :I**

**Me: OF COURSE I'M HERE! I CAN'T LEAVE MY DARLING ALL ALONE HERE IN THE BIG AND SCARY WORLD! 8D**

**Tintin: D-darling?! The hell are you talking about?! And I can handle myself just fine, thanks! :O**

**Me: OH BUT IT'S BEEN SO LONG! -hugs- ^^**

**Tintin: Euh. Get off, please... and why are you shouting? It's hurting my ears. :I**

**Me: TINTIN! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE~! 8D**

**Tintin: Arrgh! I-if I do the disclaimer will you get off of me?! -_-''**

**Me: OKAY FINE~! 8D**

**Tintin: A-AkuRoku18 does not own The Adventures of Tintin nor is she making a profit on this story! Now let go! D:**

**Me: ... NOPE~~~ XD**

**Tintin: DAMMIT. DX**

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**Chapter One**

**January 9, 1941**

The wind was already howling when Tintin woke up in his hotel room. He looked at the thermostat on the window. "Negative forty-nine degrees Centigrade! Great Snakes, that's cold, eh, Snowy?" Tintin exclaimed, looking at Snowy who had curled up into a white ball. The small dog huffed and tried to go back to sleep. Tintin chuckled and hopped out of bed, feeling exceptionally chipper despite the cold wind blowing snow and ice against the window. He figured he'd let Snowy sleep in while he got some tea. The hotel didn't have an elevator, so he jogged down the stairs to the lobby.

"Good morning!" he called to the desk attendant. The man rolled his eyes and nodded a greeting back as if to say 'sure, it's a wonderful morning when you walk outside and turn into an ice cube.' Tintin walked briskly to a table where a kettle of hot water sat and a tray of various teabags sat next to it. He grabbed a mug and poured hot water into it, scanning the teabags and eventually choosing Earl Grey. He tossed the bag in the air and caught it again, whistling. _I'm actually feeling pretty good today~ I wonder why? _The reporter eyed the clock and asked the attendant, "Excuse me, but could you tell me what day it is?"

"The day? Well… today is ninth of January," the attendant said with a heavy Norwegian accent. He looked at his watch and asked, "You need time, too?"

"No, thank you~" Tintin replied. "That's all I needed to know~" He chuckled and started to head back up the stairs when a Norwegian bumped into him. Fortunately, Tintin managed not to spill any water on him or the Norwegian. "Oh! I'm sorry, sir," Tintin exclaimed.

"Jeg beklager! J-jeg mente ikke å! Det v-var en ulykke, vil jeg gjøre noe for å b-betale deg!" the man stuttered quickly, bowing slightly.

Tintin blinked slowly. He honestly could not speak a word of Norwegian to save his life. "Er. I… don't speak Norwegian," he said.

"O-oh… I'm sorry. I-I get frightened easily, a-and… when I get frightened… I-I speak Norwegian…" the man said in clear English with barely a trace of an accent, which took Tintin by surprise.

"It's no problem, really!" the reporter insisted, smiling and patting the man's shoulder. "I didn't spill the water on you or me~"

"Ja. Ja, that's good… any other person and it might have been a death sentence…" the Norwegian mumbled, shoving his hands in his coat pockets and walking into the lobby. Tintin watched the man walk away and shrugged. He jogged back up the stairs to his room and opened the door to his room, waking up Snowy.

"Oops~ Sorry, Snowy. Didn't mean to wake you up~" Tintin chuckled. Snowy growled and shifted in his spot, trying to make himself comfortable again. The reporter took a seat at the desk in the room and took a sip of tea, recoiling slightly. "A-ah… hot…" Snowy snorted in amusement. "Hush, mutt~ I have to type this report," Tintin said. He set the mug next to a typewriter and started to type. "January 9… 1941… 'Norway wracked by terrible winter'… nah, I've read too many articles that start like that~ Let's see… 'Coldest winter in Norway since 1886'… I suppose that could work." His fingers flew as the article slowly took form. He took the sheet out of the typewriter and said, "I'd say _Le Petit Vingtieme _will like this article." He heard a knock on the door so he answered it. It was the man he'd ran into on the stairs. "Oh?"

"Ah… y-your name is Tintin, right?" the man asked quietly. "I-I asked the attendant who you were, and… well… I suppose that was that."

"I am Tintin, sir. What can I do for you?" Tintin asked. Snowy got up and walked over to his master, curious as to who was the strange man outside their hotel room. Tintin got a better look at him; he appeared to be in his early thirties with black hair and black sideburns. His left eye was dark blue and his other was light blue (Tintin figured he was blind in his right eye). He wore simple clothing with his kippa and tallit. The fringed tallit was worn underneath a coat with a yellow Star of David on the breast.

The man looked around nervously as if someone where watching him. "C-can I come in, sir?" he asked timidly. Tintin nodded and opened the door fully to allow him in, so he walked in. "I-I really do apologize for earlier, sir. I meant no disrespect, sir."

Tintin laughed a little and shut the door. "There's really no need to be sorry. It's nothing~"

"Mr. Tintin, sir…"

"Hmm?"

"May I ask you a favor Mr. Tintin, sir?" the man asked, suddenly grabbing Tintin's hands in his own.

"Er…?" The young reporter blinked slowly.

The older male gulped and said quietly, "I… I need to get out of Norway. There's no place for me in my own home anymore. I-I'm Jewish you see, and my synagogue in Hamar was burned down last week. I just can't take it anymore! Please help me…"

"I'm sorry, but… I'm not into the smuggling business," Tintin said somewhat sternly, breaking free of the man's grasp and walking to the window. He stared out of the window at the white landscape and thought, _There's no way I can help this man… I just came here for my article… I don't want to get involved with the Nazis anymore than I already have.* However… it is a man in need. It's rude to say no… but… I don't know what to say!_

"Please, have a heart, sir! I'm begging you!" the man cried, walking to Tintin and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I… I'm sorry. I don't know what to do…" Tintin muttered. "I really just came to work on an article for my boss back in France…"

"... Jeg ser jeg har kommet til feil mann ... Jeg vet ikke hva som førte meg til å tro at du ville hjelpe meg," the man mumbled quietly after some time. He turned to leave the room. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Mr. Tintin, sir. I'll be leaving. Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha'olam dayan ha'emet."

_Hebrew_, Tintin thought. _Not that I understand it… dammit. I can't not help this man! It's completely immoral of me!_ "Wait, sir!" Tintin exclaimed suddenly. He turned round and said, "Recently in the past couple months, I've had my fair share of problems with the Nazis. I would rather not get involved with them again… but I can't leave someone who's suffering because of anti-Semitic bigots. So I've decided that I will help you." He sighed. I hope I know what I'm getting into.

The man's face brightened as he smiled. He practically ran to Tintin and shook his hand rapidly and said, "You really will, sir?"

"Of course. I would honestly rather get out there and do something than sit and write a paper," Tintin said with a little mischief in his voice. "Besides, my article's done~ My boss will just be happy I finished for once~"

"I see. I am forever thankful you decided to help me after all, Mr. Tintin, sir!" the older male said, shaking Tintin's hand again. "Oh, bless me… I haven't introduced myself, sir. My name is Hjalmar Abel, sir." His dark blue eye sparkled as he said his name. "Hjalmar means 'helmeted warrior,' which is about the polar opposite of what I am." Hjalmar laughed a little.

"Ah. Is that what you tell every person you introduce yourself to?" Tintin asked jokingly, offering Hjalmar a seat.

"Well… I do take great pride in my name. My parents, Ahava and David, figured it'd be a wonderful name for me. But I'm no warrior. I'm just a simple rabbi who wants his synagogue back, really. A man who'd like to go to Sweden where the Nazis won't oppress me…" Hjalmar murmured as he sat down. He twiddled his thumbs and gazed up at Tintin. "With your help, maybe my dreams will come true!"

"… yes. I do hope so…" Tintin sat on his bed and crossed his arms. Snowy leapt onto the bed and curled up next to his master. "Say… Hjalmar…"

"Ja?"

"Have you heard of a man named Gunnar Sønsteby?" the ginger haired male asked. He looked at Hjalmar expectantly.

"Gunnar Sønsteby… yes. His name floats around the neighbor synagogues when the Nazis aren't there. He helps refugees cross the border from Köngsvinger to Charlottenberg in Sweden. I never really thought about him till you brought him up," Hjalmar admitted.

"We should go to him. I know nothing about Norway or Sweden other than the fact that it's bloody cold," Tintin chuckled. "I don't know where the German border patrols are or even where Charlottenberg is."

Hjalmar shrugged and said, "I only know that's pretty close to Köngsvinger. Maybe… fifty… fifty five kilometers from here."

"Then it's settled." Tintin stood up and Snowy growled when he moved so suddenly. "We'll find Mr. Sønsteby and ask him to help you." He smiled a little and said, "What are we waiting for?"

"D-don't you have to write… no… you said you finished. Well, you need to pack Mr. Tintin, sir! May I be of some assistance?" Hjalmar asked, standing up as well.

"No~ It's fine, Hjalmar, I got it. And you don't have to be so formal. Tintin works just fine," Tintin answered. He picked up some of his clothes that he tossed on the floor and threw them into his suitcase. Snowy bounded off the bed before some poorly thrown clothes covered him. "How about this; we can meet in the hotel lobby in about an hour and I can get my luggage sent back to France. My good friend will pick it up there."

"That sounds fine. I will go back to my room and gather my few belongings. I had to bring what was left of my personal things with me, you see. My house too was ransacked and burned… but don't feel sorry for me, sir! I knew that after than unfortunate event I would have an excuse to leave Norway for good." Hjalmar looked at the floor for a little while and then went to the door. "I will see you in an hour, Tintin." With that, he left the room.

When he was gone, Tintin sighed again. "I wonder what troubles this will bring… I feel much better helping that man, but I can't help but feel like something horrible will happen…" Snowy looked at Tintin and barked.

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Soon, Tintin had the post man ship his luggage, and his article to Le Petit Vingtieme , back to France where Captain Haddock or Nestor would pick it up and he met up with Hjalmar after checking out of the hotel. "Now all we need to do is find Mr. Sønsteby… have any ideas?" Tintin asked. Snowy barked.

"Hmm… well he'd be in a very secret location where the Nazis can't find him. But I don't know where that would be…" Hjalmar said, crossing his arms. His small suitcase was on the ground next to him.

The desk attendant overheard Tintin and Hjalmar and hissed, "You two. Over here." The two walked over to the attendant and he said with his heavy Norwegian accent, "I know who you're looking for, sirs. Sønsteby. He's not far off."

"You do? Can you tell us where he is?" Hjalmar asked quietly.

"Ja. Take train south to Magnor. That's closest to Sweden. Only 'bout ten kilometers. Sønsteby runs his route in empty warehouse. You can't miss it," the attendant said quickly. He straightened up as two Nazi soldiers with MP 40 machine guns walked through the entrance. Tintin and Hjalmer turned round as the Germans walked up to them.

"Reisepässe, bitte," one of them said, beckoning the two to give him their papers. Tintin hastily dug his wallet with his papers out of his pocket and handed them to the soldier, hoping they wouldn't recognize his name._ If these guys were with von Gottfried, then I'm in deep trouble…_ he thought. Fortunately the soldier read over the papers without a flicker of emotion on his face. He gave the papers back and looked at Hjalmar expectantly. His expressionless face suddenly twisted into disgust when he saw the Star of David embroidered into the Norwegians coat_. "_Was ist ihr unternehmen, jude?" he asked, pointing his gun at Hjalmar.

"Er hat nichts unrechtes," Tintin said, stepping in between the German and Norwegian. Snowy growled threateningly."Siehe seine papiere und laß uns gehen." The Nazi soldier snorted and grabbed Hjalmar's papers out of his trembling hands. He shoved them back into the Norwegians hands and turned to walk away. His partner spat an insult at Hjalmar and followed the other.

"I-I thought I was going to die..." Hjalmar sighed in relief. "Thank you for that, Tintin..."

"Sure... I couldn't let those two stop us now. Come on. We have a train to catch if we want to make it to Magnor before nightfall," Tintin said. He flipped his hood up over his head and headed for the exit, Hjalmar and Snowy close behind him.

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*** Tintin and the Caves of Lascaux. Another fanfic I'm writing. c: **

**ALSO. I am dedicating this chapter and the next to Gunnar Sønsteby, who actually did live during World War II and helped refugees across the border to Sweden. He unfortunately passed away last year on May 10. -takes off a hat while 'Ja, vi elsker dette landet (Norway's anthem)' plays from the sky-**

**Tintin: Wow... how... patriotic. -sheds manly tears- :')**

**Me: Well... I can't say I'm a patriot of Norway since I'm American... ^^''**

**Tintin: Shut up. Don't ruin the moment. TT u TT**


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